Æffect
by tradiferis
Summary: [Abandoned.] To change the affect, will also change the effect. What happens when your greatest enemy can offer you your heart's desire, no strings attached, when your greatest ally never has? Harry Potter is about to find out.[AU]
1. Chapter 1

**Æffect  
**tradiferis

**Disclaimer: **Once again, I do not own Harry Potter. The plot of this story is the only thing that I own in this here endeavor.

**Summary:** What happens when your greatest enemy can offer you your heart's desire, no strings attached, when your greatest ally never has? AU

- Chapter One -

**January, 1980**

Bellatrix Lestrange looked at the blue potion that was in front of her. It held the sum of her fears.

"Please don't be right," she muttered, staring at the potion, willing it to be incorrect. She whipped her hand out and violently threw the potion at the wall, "No! No, no no! This can't be happening!"

She collapsed down next to the worktable, sobbing. Her black tresses fell over the front of her face, her shoulders were slumped forward, and the Death Eater was holding onto her stomach as if she wanted to strangle it.

"No, it can't be right, I must have made it wrong," the woman said, suddenly standing. However, before she could move any further, a wave of nausea swept over her, and she emptied the contents of her stomach onto the floor next to her. Waving her wand, she cleaned it up, and then walked over to a chair that was on the other side of the room, near a simmering cauldron.

"I thought morning sickness was only in the morning," Bellatrix muttered to herself, peering into the cauldron to look at the liquid, which was the perfect color, texture, and viscosity of the potion she had wanted to make, "Face it Bella, you got an O on your Potions NEWT for a reason."

The witch looked down on herself, and cradled her stomach, "You're pregnant Bella, believe it or not."

Once again, the witch broke down in tears, for this was the one thing that she didn't need. It was obvious that the child wasn't from her husband, who she hadn't seen in over a year – not that she minded. It wasn't the fact that the child wasn't her husband's that her her worried though. That prize went to Voldemort.

"What am I going to do?" Bellatrix whispered to herself, "I can't let him find out. He'll take you from me, make you his pawn, the perfect weapon. He'll poison you. He'll take you from me. He'll take you from me. HE'LL TAKE YOU FROM ME!"

Bellatrix looked at her left forearm, an almost blind rage apparent in her eyes. She slowly stood up this time.

"It may be to late to save you me," she said, talking to and cradling her stomach at the same time, "But I will not let your chance be taken from you my son."

She slowly made her way out of the basement room. She would have to be careful. Narcissa and her pompous husband were visiting, and woe behold her if she ran into her aunt as well. She would need to be extra careful, for no one could know that she was gone until she actually was.

"How did you do it Andy?" Bellatrix murmured to herself, thinking about her sister. She paused as she reached the staircase that led up to the main floor. She couldn't just leave, she had to have some place that she could leave _to_. Slumping against the wall, she gave some thought to this.

'I can't go to Andy's house,' she thought, 'She has a little child to worry about as it is, and doesn't need to have to worry about me. Besides, it would be the most obvious choice, because she's my sister.'

Going over her options, she quickly came upon the one, and only, option that she had in hiding herself away from her family and the Dark Lord, 'He has enough power, he knows the right people, and no one would ever suspect that I would go to _him_ of all people. I just hopes he doesn't kill me as soon as he sees me.'

Her choice of where she was escaping to now made up, she still had one vital choice. _How_ was she going to escape? Muttering a low level sensory charm, she quietly implored her magic to seek out if there was anyone in the vicinity of the door that led out into the house proper. She couldn't Apparate inside the house, but the minute that she got out the front door, she could be on her way to seek her asylum.

Not feeling anyone in the immediate vicinity, she slowly made her way up the stairs, still with the charm activated. Once she made it up the stairs, she could make a mad dash to the front door. It was only a short distance, surely no one would hear her and come wondering why such a _lady_ was moving in such a way.

All her worry was for naught, however, when she suddenly heard the voice of her Aunt.

"Bellatrix," came the voice. Bellatrix couldn't feel her, so she started to walk faster up the stairs. When she got to the top, she heard her Aunt's voice once again, "Bellatrix! Where are you? I need to talk to you!"

Bellatrix crept along the edge of the walls, she could now feel her Aunt. She was in the drawing room. Which meant that she had approximately twenty seconds before her Aunt saw her.

'It's now or never,' Bellatrix thought to herself, running towards the door, which was almost mocking her for it seemed to get further away the more she ran.

"Bellatrix will you answer me and stop making that racket?" her Aunt shrilled in a lour voice, in a voice that implied she was moving quickly. Waving her wand, Bellatrix opened the door magically.

"There you are!" Bellatrix froze and turned around, and saw her Aunt at the top of the stairs, "What are you doing?"

"Something I should have done a long time ago," Bellatrix answered back, sending off a loud explosion with her wand that created a ton of smoke. She dove through the door, and as soon as she was through it, a '_pop_' sounded and Bellatrix LeStrange was no longer at Number 12 Grimmauld Place.

-

Sirius Black couldn't have been happier. He had just found out that his best friend in the world, someone that he considered to be more of a brother than his own, was going to be a father. He was almost skipping as he walked down the lane in Hogsmead to his house.

Life was good for Sirius Black. He enjoyed his job very much as a consultant for Zonko's joke shop. He also was called in from time to time as a consultant to the Auror's because of his reputation from Hogwarts on 'there being no ward that Sirius Black couldn't crack.' The money wasn't anything spectacular, but it afforded him a nice and comfortable living, something he could do until he was finished with his research on wizarding communication that would surely set him up for life.

Yes, life was good for Sirius Black, which is why when he walked onto his porch and saw his cousin, he immediately knew something was wrong.

"What are you doing here?" Sirius asked Bellatrix, who looked really nervous. She seemed to shrink back under his cold tone, which surprised Sirius for a moment, before she started talking.

"I know you don't trust me, and that you hate me," Bellatrix said, looking down at the ground, cradling her stomach, before looking at Sirius right in the eye, "But I need your help. _Please_, cousin, I know that you owe nothing to me, but I beg of you, this is more important than me. Please help me."

Sirius gave the witch an appraising look, as if wondering if this was some sort of a trap. He finally decided he might as well hear his blood out, "I will listen to you, as long as you swear to me that you mean me no harm and that by letting you into my house no harm terror will be brought onto me."

"I swear on my magic Sirius!" Bellatrix almost yelled, "Please!"

"Alright," Sirius said, putting his wand on his door, "Come in, the kitchen is in the back, please wait there while I change."

And wait Bellatrix did, for over ten minutes while her cousin changed. Bellatrix also assumed that he most likely was standing in his room wondering why he even allowed her to enter into his home in the first place. She was a known Death Eater! So why did she all but get down on her hands and knees as beg of his help?

"I realized something a few moments ago," Sirius said, walking into the room, "We haven't been in the same room since the Great Hall at Hogwarts."

"No we haven't," Bellatrix whispered, looking at the table, and not at her cousin. She heard Sirius sigh, and looked up at him.

"Why are you here Bella?" Sirius said, cutting right to the chase, "I know it isn't to kill me, because I would already be dead by now if indeed that was your prerogative. So, enlighten me, why are you here?"

Bellatrix was silent for a moment, looking back down at the table, before looking back up at Sirius with tears threatening to fall from her eyes, "I'm pregnant Sirius."

Sirius looked slightly gob smacked for a moment, a range of emotions going through his eyes, before stating, "It's not your husband's is it?"

"No," Bellatrix said, shaking her head, the tears still being held in her eyes, "It isn't, and I don't want to pretend otherwise."

She looked up at Sirius, the tears now falling down her face, "Sirius I want my child to have an even shake at life! I don't want him branded from birth! I want him to be able to choose his own destiny, not have it chosen for him!"

She completely broke down, and Sirius moved over and wrapped one arm around his cousin. Sighing, he asked, "So I take it that's why you came here?"

"Yes," was the response, "You were the only one that I knew who I could go to that could help me hide, because as you said, we haven't even been in the same room for many years."

"Why not Andy?" Sirius said, more as a formality, as plans were already forming in his head.

"She already has a young daughter to worry about," Bellatrix responded, "Much less her grown sister."

Sirius stood up suddenly, and started speaking in an authoritative voice, "We're going to have to act quickly, as any charms you placed on yourself are likely going to be fading soon. We will need to get you keyed into the wards of this house, and I will need to put a slightly modified version of the Fidelius on you, until something better can be set up."

And so Sirius helped his cousin hide in his house. He charmed a closet in his bedroom to slightly expand, till it was no more than sixty four square feet. Under the version of the Fidelius that he had put on Bellatrix, she would be able to leave the closet for short periods of time each day, and unfortunately until circumstances changed, this would be all that would be safe.

The months were hard for Bellatrix. She was used to moving around, and these conditions, not much better than the German Jews hiding in the second great muggle war in her eyes, did not allow her to do much moving. She spent most of her time writing down a list of all the spells, potions, wards, and such that she knew. One day, she knew, the list she was making might come to be useful.

She talked with Sirius as much as possible, and they started to make amends for everything that had happened between the two over the years. Sirius couldn't talk with her a lot though, as he had many appearances to keep up so he wouldn't fall under suspicion of anything, and possibly lead the someone finding that he was harboring a known Death Eater in his house.

For as much as her conditions were not ideal, every time she felt something different in her stomach, something associated with the life that was forming inside of her, she realized that these sacrifices were worth everything, and were quite possibly her penance for everything that she had done through the years. The coming birth of her child excited Bellatrix, and she was constantly dreaming of taking it on long walks enjoying the simple pleasures of life. She dreamed of when it would do it's first magic. She dreamed of taking it to Diagon Alley and showing it off for the world to see. She dreamed...

One morning as the seventh month of the year died, she woke up feeling something different than all the other mornings that she had woken up. She instantly knew what it was. She was about to have her baby. She quickly alerted Sirius by banging on the wall, as she was to 'swollen' to walk. When Sirius found out what was going to happen, he quickly sprung into action, following a plan that he had worked out months ago. Part of the Fidelius that he had made it so that if anyone glanced at Bellatrix while in the room wouldn't recognize her, even if she had known the person for years. Thus he was able to call a Healer that he knew from school that wouldn't ask any questions, and would deliver Bellatrix's baby.

A quick four hours later, Bellatrix was holding her son in her arms. He had a swatch of black hair upon his head, and blue eyes like all babies did. Bellatrix gazed upon her son with joyous tears falling down her face.

"I love you my son," Bellatrix whispered, placing a kiss upon his forehead.

"What are you going to name him?" Sirius asked, looking at his first cousin, once removed.

"Circinus Black," Bellatrix said, looking at her son with a proud look on her face, "who has guided me out of the dark."

-

A few days later Sirius received an urgent fire call, he was needed at the Potter's house. It seemed that they were having a child of their own. Bellatrix nodded as Sirius reminded her that if she was in trouble, to just use the port key that was keyed to him.

A few hours later, Bellatrix walked around the small room that she and Circinus occupied, singing a low song under her breath to her son, who was crying from what appeared to be a bad nightmare.

"Shh, Circi," Bellatrix whispered to her child, "Momma is here, don't worry, everything is going to be fine."

Suddenly, a searing pain went ripping through Bellatrix's arm, causing her to almost drop Circinus. A wave of panic washed over Bellatrix as she carefully set her son down in his cradle, before rolling the sleeve up on her arm to reveal the vile Dark Mark.

"Oh no," Bellatrix said, fear starting to wash over her, "Voldemort's found me...No! Circi...no!"

She quickly grabbed Circinus, and the port key and tried to activate it, but a searing pain went ripping through her body. It appeared as if Voldemort has keyed a ward over the house so that she could not escape.

"NO!" Bellatrix shouted as she heard the sound of glass shattering. She looked at her son with a determined look on her face, "He can get me, but he will not get you!"

Quickly writing a note to Sirius telling him what happened, she rolled it up and attached it and the port key given to her by Sirius to her son. Knowing she didn't have much time she gazed upon her son for what might be the last time.

"I love you my beautiful baby boy," Bellatrix said, kissing him on the forehead above the eyebrow, "Mummy will always love you. I know that one day you will free me from my curse."

Hearing a spell hit the house, and feeling the Mark burn harder, she activated the port key and watched her son disappear. Feeling tears fall down her eyes, she felt the door behind her be blasted open...

Meanwhile, at the home of Lily and James Potter, Sirius Black was trying to console his best friend on the death of his son. In a shocking twist of fate, the Potter child had died during childbirth, and no amount of magic was able to save it. Sirius was currently trying to help James figure out how to confront Lily, who didn't yet know that her son had died. Suddenly, a child appeared in Sirius' lap.

"What in the world," Sirius said, looking down at the child, and suddenly recognizing it, "Oh no..."

Sirius saw the note on the child, and quickly unrolled it, his eyes filling with tears as he read it. Suddenly though, he got an idea, and looked up at his best friend who was looking at him in confusion.

"James, do you trust me?" Sirius asked his best friend. James nodded with a confused look on his face. Sirius closed his eyes as he slid his wand down his arm, thinking of the past three hours, before looking up at James with a determined look on his face, "_OBLIVIATE!_"

James' eyes quickly became cloudy, before they started to come back into focus. Sirius quickly put a grin on his face, and looked at James.

"Thank you for letting me hold your son James, he is so beautiful," Sirius said, handing Circinus over to James.

"Yes, he is," James said, looking down at the baby, "Come on little guy, let's show you to your mum."

Sirius looked on with a sigh. If anyone was to know what happened, Bellatrix's wishes for her son to live without being marked from birth would be all for naught. Thinking of everything that had happened since the day his cousin appeared on his porch, he pointed his wand at himself and, with one last sigh, said, "_Obliviate!_"

-

"How is she doing?" Lord Voldemort said to the Death Eater that was following him.

"She should be awaking right now," the Death Eater said.

"Perfect," Voldemort said with a smile, thinking of the magical brainwashing that he had put the powerful witch through for the past few days. With a grim smile he walked into the room where Bellatrix was starting to wake up.

"Arise Bellatrix," Voldemort said with an evil laugh, "My most _faithful_ servant."

- End Chapter -


	2. Chapter 2

- Chapter Two -

**Present Day**

When one goes through a traumatic experience, there are many different levels that you go through. First is the most recognizable one, that everyone goes through: denial that the experience happened. The next levels are where the 'human condition' surfaces, that in which no two humans can possible be alike. Everyone's next step in dealing with their experience is as such, so it is impossible to predict the exact order in a which a person will go through the levels.

As such, after a person goes through a traumatic experience, it is advisable that the person not be totally shut off from the rest of the world, because you can't know for sure if the person should be left by themselves. There are some dark levels that a person can enter, which can be disastrous for everyone involved. These can be vengeance for what happened to them, overwhelming grief that leads to one taking it out on themselves, or many others. There is one, however, which is the most dangerous to leave a person alone with, because it is the most unpredictable.

Harry Potter was currently sitting on his bed in his room at Number Four Privet Drive with thoughts of furious anger swirling through his head. In fact, if one was to look at Mr. Potter, they would notice that he didn't look at all like the fifteen, soon to be sixteen, year old that most people had come to recognize. While he always had a look of him that spoke of age well beyond his physical years, there was still a boyish softness that dominated both his manner and his features. At this moment, however, Harry had a look on him that some would equate with the bitter older men that drowned their troubles at the local pub.

For Harry, at least in his eyes, had much to be bitter about: His Godfather, Sirius Black, had just met his untimely end at the hands of one Bellatrix LeStrange; His _esteemed_ Headmaster, Albus Dumbledore had in the meanwhile lain on him the weight of the entire world, quite literally. Oh, and what did the man do after he had told Harry that he was destined to face one of the most feared dark magicians on the planet? He had sent him back to a home where his very existence was reviled, and the only thing keeping him 'safe' was a 'blood protection' that the _esteemed_ Headmaster had told him about, and explained in only the barest of details.

Oh, the thoughts going through Harry's head were indeed quite dark, and would probably be shocking to all of those that knew Harry, and to those that supposedly watched out for Harry's 'well being.' For these were thoughts that not only were of furious anger, but also of great vengeance. And there in lied the scary part of Harry's thoughts, because the anger that was driving his thirst for vengeance had pushed his thoughts to that of _everyone_.

"I wonder if Bellatrix would consider this 'righteous anger.'" Harry muttered to himself, looking at a makeshift calendar that he had hung on the wall, "When I actually _want_ to hurt them."

If the Dursley's were actually listening to their nephew, they might think that by 'them' Harry meant those that he lived with: them. But what they didn't know what that Harry's 'them' wasn't confined to just his relatives, indeed it almost read like a 'who's who' of Harry's life. He was mad at Trelawny for making that damn prophecy; he was mad at Voldemort for a laundry list of different things, centering around making his life a living hell; he was mad at Dumbledore for keeping him in the dark about so many things, and then sending him back to this hell hole that he was forced to call a 'home;' and he was mad at life in general for the hand that it had dealt him, for when the chips were to thrown down, he knew at the moment he possessed a dead man's hand. Quite literally.

"This is so...argh!" Harry suddenly stood up, finding himself at a loss for words as he started to pace around his room, "How in the nine layers of hell does he expect me to beat him? He sends me back to this retched place, gives me no training...oh wait, if he DID give me training he would have someone incompetant do it for him!"

Harry picked up one of his old Charms books and flung it against the wall, picturing it was his _esteemed_ Potion's Professor. Harry slumped down against the wall, his thoughts heavily on everything that had led up to Sirius dieing. This was how he had come to descend into this level in the first place. These thoughts always led to one conclusion, and this conclusion was what was burning at Harry's soul.

_He couldn't trust anyone. _He couldn't trust McGonagall, he would _never_ trust Snape for as long as he lived, he damn sure couldn't trust Dumbledore anymore. That's what is all boiled down to for Harry: if he could have trusted someone in Hogwarts that was firmly on his side, Sirius wouldn't have died. No, instead he was constantly fed half-truths or outright lied to.

This had to stop, especially if he was the 'chosen one' of the Prophecy. He needed to be told the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, or so help anyone that tried to speak in double talk to him ever again. He was tired of all the false pretenses, he needed straight talk for once in his life. He knew that now that he knew about the Prophecy, he would have some sort of leverage to at least force people's hands on the need for mutual trust.

Suddenly, a sense of dread filled Harry, vacating all his other feelings, and it seemed as if something big and life changing was happening. If only he knew...

He walked over to the window and noticed that Vernon Dursley had pulled his car in, and had arrived home. He observed as the large and rotund man stumbled out of the car, with a very dark aura around him, causing Harry's feeling of dread to increase. He saw Vernon walk into the house, and then he heard a muffled conversation between his uncle and his aunt as he sat on his bed, wondering why he was feeling this wave of dread.

When Harry would look back on his life, the next few minutes he would call the start of the turning point of his life. For what was about to happen would start a chain of events so great, that even in his most wildest dreams did he think would ever come true. And it all started because of a situation that he had nothing to do with.

"BOY!" came the slightly enraged and slightly off-balanced shout of Uncle Vernon a few minutes later, "GET YOUR ARSE DOWN HERE RIGHT NOW!"

Harry closed his eyes for a moment, feeling a wave of stress wash over him. As he walked down the stairs, his dread started to increase exponentially, especially as he saw his uncle. Vernon Dursley looked much the worse for wear, and in the most simple of ways to say it, he looked really effed up. When Harry got nearer to him, he could tell that it was alcohol's dirty claws that had effed his uncle up.

Vernon just looked at Harry for a moment, almost sneering at him. Harry could sense his aunt standing near them, off to the side, watching the stare down. If he could see her, he would notice that Petunia Dursley was looking at Harry with scorn.

"Boy, do you know what happened to me today?" Vernon asked Harry, in a deadly serious voice.

"No," Harry responded, looking right in his uncle's eyes.

"I WAS FIRED FROM MY JOB!" Vernon raged at Harry, "AND I DON'T KNOW HOW YOU DID IT, BUT I KNOW YOU DID IT!"

Vernon turned away from Harry, who was watching his uncle with baited breath, and throw his arms up into the air, and started talking like had an audience, "They said I was 'abusing employees,' what rubbish! I was only teaching them the ropes, how to survive in this world! The younger generation has no respect for good discipline anymore. AND YOU!"

Vernon turned back to Harry, his finger pointing wildly at Harry, "You have defied me every which way for as long as you've lived, and now you've cost me my job."

Vernon looked over at Petunia, who nodded her head, before looking back at Harry and said in a calm voice, "Get out of my house."

Harry stood flabbergasted for a moment, as if not quite understanding, "But I can't-"

"I DON'T CARE ABOUT THOSE FREAKS!" Vernon shouted, causing some of the shelfs to shake, "FIND YOURSELF A NEW HOME, BECAUSE THIS IS NO LONGER YOURS!"

Harry, quite stunned, turned to look at his Aunt, who was looking at him with an intense hatred. He tried to open his mouth to protest, to mention Dumbledore, but his Aunt beat him to the punch.

"Don't you say a thing!" she screeched, as Harry hoped for some Order member to be outside hearing what was going on, "If it wasn't for you, nothing bad would have ever befallen this family! Get out! You should never have come here in the first place! Get out of my home! I don't care what those freaks say, this ISN'T YOUR HOME!"

Almost in an instant, the sound of shattering glass filled the air. Harry's sense of dread was almost all consuming as he turned to the window and saw that the sky, which had previously been a clear blue, was now infinitely dark. Now his dread wasn't just the only thing that was consuming him, for a pain in his forehead started to take grip of his mind. Turning around, he saw that his aunt and uncle looked slightly scared.

"Oh no," he heard Aunt Petunia almost whisper as the gravity of what she just allowed her husband to do sunk into her. Harry turned towards the door, and almost in a trance opened the front door. What he saw was like looking into the nexus of his greatest nightmare.

"No," escaped from Harry's lips as he looked at the smirking face of Lord Voldemort, who was walking up to Number Four Privet Drive.

"Yes, Harry," the Dark Lord said, with a slight laugh, "Yes. I've finally found you, thanks to Dumbledore not being able to control the only two people he's never been able to totally control."

"NO!" Harry screamed, slamming the door shut. He made to run to the stairs so he could get up to his room and grab his wand, but he was stopped when he was hit from behind with a great force. He tried to get up, but he found he was trapped under what appeared to be a big piece of plaster. Maneuvering his body, he saw that it appeared as if the whole front of the house had imploded, for it was no longer there.

As he watched the Dark Lord, and many of his Death Eaters walk into the house, he had no idea what exactly had been put in motion by his Uncle Vernon saying that Privet Drive was no longer his home.

- End Chapter -

A/n:

**Æ: **_This Latin character was used so that the title may possess a duality._

**Circinus:**_ A star constellation, falling in line with how the Black family names their children. Bellatrix basically says what it means._

REVIEW!


	3. Chapter 3

- Chapter Three -

**Present Day**

Harry looked up, still unable to fully remove himself from under the plaster that was holding him down. Suddenly, however, he heard a voice next to him that sent shivers down his spine.

"Don't think of moving ickle baby Potter," said the voice of Bellatrix LeStrange. Harry felt his furious anger start to rip it's way through his veins before it was placated by a searing pain that centered at his forehead when Lord Voldemort stooped down in front of him.

"I would listen to Bella, Harry," Voldemort said, "For I'm going to give you a chance to make a decision, and depending on your answer, you will either live, or your head will join those of your family."

Harry suddenly heard a strangled cry from his Aunt, and then a soft 'thump' on the floor. He closed his eyes, trying – willing – himself not to think about what had just happened to his Aunt.

"A choice Potter, and it must be made quickly!" Voldemort said, looking at him straight in the eyes, "Will you come with me, or do you wish to remain here?"

Harry just stared back at the Dark Lord with a slightly blank look on his face, before saying, "What?"

"Do you wish to remain here and go back to Dumbledore, or do you wish to come with me?" Voldemort responded, still looking Harry in the eye, "The known over the unknown Potter! Where's your Gryffindor courage?"

Harry looked Voldemort back squarely in the eye, not believing that Voldemort was even offering him this choice. How could this bastard think he would even risk going with him. He heard a slight chuckle coming from Bellatrix, and shifted his head slightly to glare at her, knocking his head into her wand. He looked back at Voldemort and was about to tell him what he thought before the Dark Lord spoke one more time.

"Remember, Harry," he said, with a serious voice, "I've never lied to you, once in your life."

Harry was about to scoff at him, but then he he paused at a thought creeping up from the back of his mind: _Voldemort never had lied to him_. As much as his brain tried to tell him that this was his blood enemy, as much as he tried to ignore the feeling, he couldn't let it lie. As much as Voldemort had ever tried to do to him, as much as he HAD done to him...the man had never lied to him. The thought seemed to be overriding all the other thoughts in his head.

At the last moment, however, one other thought came directly to the forefront of his mind, "What about when you planted that memory in my mind?"

"That was only one of your worst fears that I triggered," Voldemort said, looking down at Harry, before looking over his shoulder for a quick moment, "Now what is your decision Harry? Life, or death?"

Harry sighed, as much as he would like to stand up to Voldemort, he just didn't have the power, or the experience. Adding to the fact that he was trapped under plaster without a wand, the choice was very simple to make. If he ever wanted to defeat Voldemort...he would need to live, "I choose life."

"Good choice," Voldemort said with a slight smirk, waving his hand causing the plaster to move out of the way. He motioned for Harry to get up, and produced a metal ring from his pocket, "Put this on, it will take you to my private quarters."

Harry nodded, and as he was putting it on, he noticed that Bellatrix seemed to have a very blank, and somewhat shocked look on her face. Pushing that thought away, he slipped the ring onto his finger and then felt the familiar sense of a port key tugging on his stomach.

What was he getting himself into?

-

Bellatrix watched as her master offered Potter the choice of life or death. She chuckled, for no matter what choice the little brat took, he was going to wind up dead one way or another. All that was being offered in reality was a choice to live _longer_, but he was going to die either way. Suddenly, Potter shifted his head and Bellatrix watched as her wand came in contact with the boy's forehead.

Her world exploded in color.

Her senses were overridden in every shape and form. Her mind felt like it was being pried open, and then welded back together again many times over. She felt as if a snake was slithering out of the very veins under her skin, and suddenly, she was feeling things that she couldn't ever remember feeling.

Where was this remorse coming from? Where was this willingness to be independent coming from? Where was this sense that what she was doing was wrong coming from? Why was she suddenly feeling as if she needed to protect Potter?

And then in a rush of images, feelings, and fleeting clarity the memories of a seemingly foreign life started to assault her mind. Flashes of her cursing a perfect potion; feelings of hopelessness; images of her cousin; hiding in a room; happiness; hope for the future; being free from her curse; total love and devotion...and then nothing. It seemed as if suddenly all the images and feelings that had just been unleashed like the hounds of hell on her had suddenly suppressed themselves again.

It was not to be, though, as just when she thought that the odd ocurance was over, Bellatrix felt as if an egg was cracked over her head. Instantly, she felt pieces in her mind connect together in ways that seemed like it had been years since they had fit that way. All the images, feelings, and thoughts started to make sense like they had at the time she had experienced them.

Once they started to make sense though, Bellatrix began to get scared, though. For with this understanding came knowledge that scared her more than quite possibly only one thing in her entire life. She now no longer felt that Voldemort was her Lord and Master anymore, he was far from it.

She no longer felt that she was one to be the Voldemort's pit bull, the one that was his most loyal servant. All the urges to please the Dark Lord were gone, replaced with an overwhelming desire to fight against the vile creature that had engulfed her life in the never ending circle of hate that had claimed so many innocents.

She was also feeling something that she knew in her formerly black heart that she hadn't felt in many years. This feeling seemed almost out of place in her being after being absent for so many years, and the feeling was both refreshing and horrifying at the same time. For she was feeling intense and almost unadulterated love and devotion for something other than the Dark Arts and fealty to 'her lord.'

Bellatrix knew that this feeling was quite dangerous for her to hold. For to begin with, she now no longer held her 'Master' as he 'Lord' and thus she could be dealt very serious repercussions from that. At the same time, however, she didn't care, because she had someone that was so much better than Voldemort would ever be in her mind and her heart.

Also, though, at the same time her cruel circle kept turning around and around, for the person that she now held so far above what she ever held Voldemort at was the one person that walked the Earth that it would be automatically fatal for Voldemort to find out about. The circle kept on turning, still, for Bellatrix knew that she would know fight until she could fight no more for this person, this person that was her everything. Her very reason for living.

She wished she still had a cousin to run to that could hide her and her baby, but she had caused his death, due to machinations of Voldemort's evil will. She would, however, make sure that her baby would dominate over Voldemort's plans, for nothing was more important to her than this.

She almost felt like shouting it at the man as he held his hand out to her, so that they could go back to his lair. Bellatrix couldn't help but imagine what his reaction would be once he found out that she was no longer his mindless pawn to be bent on his will. She was Bellatrix Black, and she was a mother scorned.

For her son was Harry Potter.

-

Voldemort looked at the witch that was walking next to him towards his quarters. Something seemed off about Bellatrix, but he couldn't quite place it what exactly it was that was off about her. The fact that she refused to look directly at him was proving to make it more difficult than ever to break through what were already strong mental shields that unfortunately had been left over from when Bellatrix had been 'fixed' after she had defied him for that final time.

"Are you feeling okay Bella?" the Dark Lord asked his most loyal servant, the one that he knew would never again betray him, and would one day lead him to his greatest victory, with nary a question.

"Yes, my Lord," Bellatrix responded, before turning and looking at him directly in the face, "My Lord, I was wondering if I may have a chance to speak with Potter before you do?"

Voldemort looked at Bellatrix, and almost grinned evilly. Of course, she wanted to get the boy back for the treachery that he pulled against her at the fiasco in the Department of Mysteries. She just didn't want to be un-loyal to her master by encroaching on territory that was rightfully hers. Not even bothering to check the truthfulness behind her statement, because he knew that it would also be the pure and unadulterated truth, he responded, "Of course Bella, in fact, take as long as you want. I'll leave the boy there till 'morrow, for I have many more important things to take care of."

"Thank you my Lord," Bellatrix responded, almost gleefully, before giving him a deep bow of respect, and walking further to his quarters.

Voldemort smiled, the boy that had been a problem in his side since the day he was born was about to finally be broken. With a laugh of amusement about how much his fortunes had changed in the past few hours. The problem that his associates had worked on for many years, and what he himself had spent countless hours dedicated to had in a single moment solved itself. He finally had Harry Potter in his clutches, and Harry Potter was going to wish that he had never been born.

-

Harry regretted putting the ring on almost as soon as he did. What was he THINKING? He was as good as dead either way, all he had done was prolong his life by possibly a few short hours.

"Nice Potter," Harry said to himself, pacing around the room that he was in, "Real nice, how are you going to luck your way out of this one?"

Harry sat down in an armchair that looked towards what Harry knew was Voldemort's bed. He put his head into his arms, and sighed. Unless some sort of miracle occurred, he was dead. He didn't have any thing that might be useful to help escape (like his father's invisibility cloak), or anything that might help him defend himself. He snorted, thinking Mad-Eye Moody would be screaming himself hoarse at Harry right now. He was in the enemy's own bedroom without his wand.

He got up out of the chair, and started to look around for anything, _anything_, that could help him either escape, or defend himself. Suddenly, he heard the door click. Feeling a slight sickness rise in his throat he swallowed it down as he had a slightly morbid though go through his head, '_Say, "Hello!" to death Harry!_'

However, he noted something odd as the door started to swing open. Usually when Voldemort was near him, his scar would start to pain him, and it would be hard to think straight. Now, however, he didn't feel that. He looked up and saw a few candles flicker into existence once the door was closed, revealing someone that Harry had seen in a countless number of his nightmares.

Bellatrix LeStrange.

"YOU!" Harry shouted out, forgetting he was unarmed as he stared upon the visage of the one that had led to his Godfather dying. He ran and jumped at the dark haired witch. He was thanked for his moment of forgetfulness when he was hit with a full body bind. He didn't hit the floor roughly, however, as he was floated over to the chair.

"If you want to live you're going to need to listen, and listen carefully," Bellatrix said to Harry in a soft voice, walking over to him.

"Like I believe that I'm going to live longer than your Lord deems me to," Harry drawled when he realized that he could talk. He was rewarded for this with a backhanded slap against his face. Bellatrix leaned down and put herself eye level with Harry, to tell him the ways that he was going to suffer he could only assume.

They never came.

"You're never going to live with that attitude," Bellatrix said with a hard edge to her voice, cupping Harry's head with her hand, and then speaking in a softer tone, "I'm not going to let you die. I know that you have no reason to believe me, but I am telling you the truth. Voldemort has given you till morning to live, so we do not have much time."

Harry didn't know how to feel, for he was feeling many things at once. Disgust, mistrust, fear, confusion, and..._trust? _ How was it even POSSIBLE that he could trust this woman, one that he hated, with his very safety.

He also know that he had very little choice. If he wanted to live, he was going to have to gamble. He just hoped he was betting with a winning hand. He dropped his head, and sighed. He looked back up and saw that Bellatrix was looking at him with an expectant look on her face. He could see something in her eyes, but he couldn't quite place what it was.

Actually, he knew what it was, for he had seen on it others many times, but he could never believe that he was seeing this reflected in Bellatrix LeStrange's eyes of all people. There was no way that she could be looking at him in hope...wasn't there?

"What do I need to do?"

- End Chapter -

A/n:

**McGonagall: **_He was mad at McGonagall because she wouldn't do anything about Umbridge. Harry's mind was at a stage where he was blaming everything that it could comprehend that did something to harm him._

**Voldemort's near immediate response: **_Well let's just say that he was intensely looking for Harry, and when the blood protection finally fell...he knew exactly where he was at._

Also, someone said update more often? I plan on updating every week, or at least once every two weeks.

Updates on the updates, and other things as well, can be found at my livejournal, which you can get the link to in my profile.

Now please, REVIEW!


	4. Chapter 4

- Chapter Four -

**Present Day, a short while ago**

Albus Dumbledore prided himself on being a master of manipulation and control. He had to be in order to be a master of Transfiguration. The skills really went hand in hand. To be able to work with Transfiguring objects with the skill he had required you to be able to manipulate every single fiber in what you were Transfiguring into bending to your will. It meant being a master of your emotions, being able to completely control everything that went around you. If you didn't, the results were disastrous.

Which was why Harry Potter was so frustrating to Albus Dumbledore. The boy broke every single manipulation and control that Albus had placed on his own person.

To completely master his craft, Albus had more or less let love go by the wayside for himself, because that chaotic being could not be around him or otherwise he would lose his precious control. Oh, he _cared_ about people still, but as any heartbroken teenager could tell you, there was a great difference between _caring_ for somebody, and _loving_ somebody.

And Harry Potter broke through that wall that he had built for himself.

Albus sighed as he walked back up to his office from his meeting with Cornelius Fudge, the ever bumbling Minister of Magic. The man had an inquiry into him at the present for his actions, and he had requested Dumbledore's help, and really it wasn't much. How could Dumbledore help the man who had built his bed of knives from laying in it without implicating himself in the man's many missteps. He couldn't, and he had tried to tell this to Cornelius, but it had taken a while to get the man to see reason.

As Albus walked back up to his office, he had a sense around him that something was potentially very wrong. It was a feeling that he was having more and more often these days, and it was starting to get to him. These _feelings _were not something that he should always be having, he was to disciplined with his emotions to let these feelings invade him.

Part of the reason Albus suspected that he was having so many problems with these emotions was because Harry had broken many of the proxies that he used for his emotions. The many devices that littered his office had often mystified people into what their actual purpose was. Only the most elder of wizards could recognize that they were devices connected to a person's emotions, and only the person themselves understood their reactions. The true point of them was to allow a person to not become muddled in 'useless' emotions, when what emotions they wanted to use could be used on other pursuits.

The boy he loved so deeply had destroyed many an object, and while he HAD initially been glad that a great number of the objects had been destroyed, for many were just replicates of replicates, the unbridled rage of the boy was proving to be something that Albus now regretted he had let the boy into, for now they were affecting his own emotions, including this nagging feeling that something incredibly wrong had happened.

When he arrived in his office and looked upon his desk that held the objects Harry hadn't destroyed, Albus got the answer to his feeling in spades.

The wards had fallen on Privet Drive, and Harry Potter was missing.

-

**Present Day, currently**

Harry Potter liked to style himself as having above average intelligence every so often. He was one of the best individuals in Defense Against the Dark Arts at Hogwarts, and he was at least respectable in all of his other subjects that he took, with the possible exceptions of Divination and Potions. However, for all that he liked to style himself as, he could not believe that he had done just what _had_ to amount to one of the most _retarded_ things that he had ever done in his life.

Really, what _had_ he been thinking in the past few hours? First accepting an invitation from Lord Voldemort was a GREAT exercise in brain power, and then accepting an invitation of escape from the murderer of his Godfather? It was official, Harry Potter was the least intelligent person on Earth.

Currently, he was following Bellatrix LeStrange through a rather thick forest at a pace that was starting to eat at Harry's sides, and he could tell that it was affecting Bellatrix as well. He noticed that every so often Bellatrix would stop for a moment to mutter a spell and check the color of her wand, and after cursing slightly under her breath, would continue on at a more frantic pace.

Finally after what seemed like hours, Harry had determined he had enough.

"LeStrange!" Harry yelled, causing her to whip around, pointing her wand at Harry's face.

"Don't speak so loud or call me that," Bellatrix responded in a deathly quiet voice, "We could have people following us, and if you speak that loud they will find us instantly. Got it?"

Harry nodded warily, and Bellatrix lowered her wand before going on, "Good. Now, since it's apparent that both of us need the rest, we're going to take a break for a few hours. No sleeping, however, we need to be on our guards."

"Alright," Harry responded, finding a rock on the ground the looked like it would provide a nice place to lean against. Harry closed his eyes in exhaustion for a second, before opening them again, looking at Bellatrix, who herself was staring intently at him.

"By the way," Bellatrix said in a low voice, quite close to a whisper, "This is yours."

Harry looked with shock as she tossed him a wand, _his_ wand. Harry really didn't know what to say, so he whispered out a quick, "Thank you."

Looking up at the stars, Harry tried to figure out what was going on. He was dead, no matter which way he looked at it, unless Bellatrix was being true - which he highly doubted. Either this would end with Bellatrix killing him, or with Voldemort killing him when Bellatrix ended this charade. He sighed again, he couldn't believe the situations that he got himself into.

"What's wrong Harry?" Bellatrix asked, startling Harry with the concern that showed in her voice. Harry looked over at the witch, who couldn't have been more than three feet away from him. The concern that with which was held in her eyes slightly took Harry back. This was unbelievable.

Harry decided that it wouldn't hurt to talk to Bellatrix, maybe it would help maintain his sanity, what little of it he had left it seemed.

"I'm trying to figure out just when this whole charade is going to end, and you're going to kill me or turn me back over to Voldemort," Harry said, deciding honesty was the best policy. It also was the best policy to get slapped in the face, again, as well.

"Don't you ever say that!" Bellatrix hissed out at Harry, "I could NEVER kill you, and I will NEVER turn you over to that scum! Are we clear?"

"Yes," Harry replied, quite shocked. The pair sat in silence for a few minutes. Harry observed that Bellatrix seemed to be angry with herself. For what, he didn't know. Something nagged at Harry's mind, and he decided to air it, "If you don't want me calling you, 'LeStrange,' what do you want me to call you?"

Bellatrix looked quite conflicted for a few moments, before responding, "Call me Bellatrix, if you have to call me anything Harry."

"Right," Harry responded, before a shock of pain ripped through his skull. It appeared as if Voldemort was VERY angry. It didn't take a genius to figure out why. As the pain seemed to seep throughout his entire skull, Harry barely had the withal to notice that Bellatrix had wrapped her arms around Harry and was whispering soothing words to him.

The next morning dawned, and found the pair still walking through the forest. After Harry's episode, Bellatrix had told him to sleep for a few hours, she would pull guard. Harry instantly complied. After he had woken up Bellatrix had informed him that they only needed to walk for a few more hours and then their journey, for now at least, would be complete.

The biggest change between the night before and the morning was that the silence between Harry and Bellatrix was less strained. It seemed after Harry's episode, he trusted Bellatrix more, and although he didn't quite know her motives for helping him, he was at least going to trust her now. No one had ever comforted him like that when Voldemort had been harassing his mind. It was almost as if Bellatrix had the touch of a mother…

"Just a few more miles Harry," Bellatrix said to Harry, who was slightly behind the witch, "Then we'll be out of the wards that Voldemort has over this area."

"Where are we exactly?" Harry asked.

"The Black Woods of Germany," Bellatrix responded, "But that's all I know. The only reason we haven't been caught yet is because I helped to lay the wards that guard this area. If you had tried to escape on your own, you would have been caught by the wards within minutes."

"Oh," Harry responded, somewhat dumbly. Another thought broached his mind, "Where are we going to go?"

"The Black family has some property that only members of the family know about, and get into" Bellatrix stated, "If we can get to one of these places, we'll be able to hide out while we think of what to do next."

"Right" Harry responded, and the pair were quiet for the rest of the hike. Finally, when the position of the sun indicated that it was nearing midday, Bellatrix announced that they had reached the edge of the wards.

"You'll need to hold onto my hand, as you don't know the location of where we're going," Bellatrix said, taking Harry's hand, "Hold on tight."

Bellatrix muttered a spell under her breath, waving her wand in a circle around both herself and Harry. Suddenly, Harry felt himself spinning around as if using the Floo Network, before just as quickly he stopped spinning and noticed he was in the middle of the entry way of a house that looked like it hadn't been used in at least 20 years.

"Welcome to France, Harry," Bellatrix said to Harry with a slight smile. Harry was just about to ask a question that was nagging at the back of his head when suddenly he felt a cavalcade of pain erupt from the back of his skull, and his eyes.

The last thought that Harry had before he passed out was that his body, for whatever reason, felt completely wrong.

-

**September, 1980**

"James, why do we have to do this?" Lily Potter asked her husband, who was currently reading out of a book that had the word, "POTTER" engraved on the cover.

"Because it is a tradition of the Potter family," James responded, seemingly not concerned, "All Potter males are to be the recipient of this ritual, which will make them appear as almost the spitting image of their father until they come of age, where they will gradually start to develop features that make themselves appear to be more of an individual."

"But why though?" Lily asked, cradling the sleeping baby that was in her arms.

"Apparently one of my ancestors decided that the way he looked was how all Potter males should look, a calling card you could say, so he imbedded it within the family's magic," James responded, coming to the page he was looking for and setting the book down on the table, "If the magic of the family is to ever accept Harry, then this ritual needs to be done."

"All right," Lily responded, "But will he get anything from me?"

"The child will always get the mother's eyes," James responded, kissing Lily and then his son on the forehead, "That is why you take part in the ritual."

"Good, at least he won't have dull hazel ones like you, or your mum," Lily said with a laugh while James looked slightly offended. She set the now stirring Harry down on a pedestal that was resting on the table, the book in front of it.

"Will this hurt him?" Lily asked, wanting to put off this ritual for as long as possible for some reason. It just didn't feel right deep in her stomach.

"Not at all," James responded, picking his wand up off the table, "It's only a glamour charm with some magic infused into it to allow Harry access to the Potter Magic."

"Okay," Lily said, convincing herself that this was the right thing to do, "What do I have to do."

And with that, the ritual started.

- End Chapter -

A/n:

**Timeliness of this chapter:** Sorry! Had a few life altering things happen (received a new job, had to move overseas back to Germany for it), and also lost my desire to write for a little while. Now that my life has calmed down slightly updates should happen more often to this story, and my others.

**The End of this chapter:** This has ramifications that will come into play in the next chapter.

Thank you all for waiting! I shouldn't keep you guys waiting for 11 months for the next chapter, I promise! Please REVIEW and tell me what you think!


	5. Chapter 5

**A/n:** Ready to hate me?

- Chapter Five -

**Present Day**

Harry groaned as the light hit his eyes. It seemed like they were burning, which was a situation that didn't at all help the incredible headache that he also had at the moment. He also could see nothing but shapeless colors, which was starting to get highly annoying.

"Harry, are you awake?" came the concerned - and was that slightly distressed? - voice of Bellatrix from off to Harry's right hand side.

"What, in the nine layers of hell, happened?" Harry asked trying to sound angry, however he was so incredibly tired and sore that he couldn't quite manage the tone he was going for. With Bellatrix's voice, however, the world started to come back into view.

"You apparently had some powerful glamour charm on your body," Bellatrix whispered to Harry, mindful of the state he was in, "And the Black Magic that was on this house decided to undue it."

"Why would it though?" Harry voiced, before a thought struck him, "Wait a tic, didn't you say that only member's of the Black family could get into this house? Why am I allowed in here? Is it because you brought me in?"

"Yes, only members of the Black family can get in," Bellatrix responded, sounding slightly apprehensive, "And no, the reason you were allowed in wasn't because I brought you in here."

Harry noticed her omission, and called her on it, "Then why am I allowed here? And why would it matter what magic I have on me?"

The world started to come into better focus for Harry, and he was able to see the apprehensive look that was on Bellatrix's face.

"Harry, what I am about to say is quite difficult," Bellatrix said after a long moment, "I know for a fact that you will not believe a word of what I am going to say, but I have to ask you to do the most difficult thing that you will have ever done in your life up until now: _trust me_."

Harry, who was now more confused than angry, sighed, "I have trusted you, albeit in a very small amount, thus far. Why shouldn't I continue to?"

"Because what I am going to say will turn your world, and mine, upside down," Bellatrix responded.

Harry thought on this for a few moments, whenever this phrase had ever been used, _nothing_ good had ever come from it. However, something at the back of Harry's mind told him that he _needed_ to hear what Bellatrix had to say.

"Go ahead," Harry sighed, bracing himself for whatever Bellatrix was about to tell him. Bellatrix, who looked slightly fearful, sighed herself, before drawing in a calming breath, and starting to tell Harry her deepest secret.

-

**Present Day, concurrently**

"We searched the grounds of Privet Drive," the head of Kingsley Shacklebolt said, "And even though there wasn't much to go on with the destruction of the house, there is no sign of Potter or any of his belongings. We were able to discover Potter's relatives, however."

"Their condition?" Dumbledore asked, not liking what was going on. After he had discovered that Harry wasn't at Privet Drive, he had a team from the Order go check it out. When he heard about the condition of Privet Drive, he couldn't help but feel hope slowly fade from him.

"All three of them had their throats slit," Kingsley reported with a grim face, "The muggle authorities have determined that this was a simple murder, and we were able to 'convince' all the surrounding muggles that Potter never lived at the residence."

"Thank you Kingsley," Dumbledore said, sighing, "You can return to your other duties. I'll let you know if I need you again."

"Always, Albus," Kingsley said, before his head disappeared from Dumbledore's fireplace.

Dumbledore did not like this lack of control. With Harry missing, his control over this war with Voldemort was at an even bigger lose. He did have a question, however, if Voldemort was indeed behind this disappearance, why hadn't the Dark Lord already let it be known? Why wasn't he already gloating?

Dumbledore sighed, he needed to go to the Ministry. They could NOT find out that he had lost control over the whereabouts of Harry. If they did, his already bad day would become much worse, and Voldemort would be that much closer to totally destroying the morale of Wizarding Britain.

Dumbledore hated to lie, but sometimes for the greater good it was necessary.

-

Voldemort was spinning into a whole new level of furious that he had ever known in his life.

"What do you mean, you useless little rat," Voldemort started to grind out, "That not only is Bellatrix unaccounted for, BUT THAT POTTER IS MISSING!"

Peter Pettigrew many times had regrets for joining Voldemort. This was one of those times.

"Master, I mean exactly that," Pettigrew, commonly known as Wormtail, whimpered, groveling at the Dark Lord's feet, "Bellatrix can not be found anywhere on the grounds, and neither can the Potter boy."

"Wormtail, consider this a present," Voldemort said, turning around, leaving the still groveling Pettigrew in the same place, "When I turn back around, I want you out of my sight."

"Thank you Master," Pettigrew responded, getting up to run out, before he was hit with the Cruciatus Curse in the back. His screams filled the chamber.

"I never said you could go, fool," Voldemort snarled, taking his anger at the situation out on the traitorous animagus. When he felt Pettigrew's mind about to break, he lifted the curse. Wormtail, for all the annoyance he caused, had his uses. Voldemort got down onto one of his knees so that he could whisper in the rat's ear, "Wormtail, you are to find those two. If you do not know where they are by tonight, I will send your head on a pike to Dumbledore."

"Yes master," Pettigrew whimpered out, still in obvious amounts of pain.

"You are dismissed," Voldemort said, standing up and walking out of the chamber, leaving Pettigrew to whimper on the floor.

'Why couldn't you have killed me Harry?' Pettigrew thought, rocking back and forth on the ground. His life would have been so much easier had Harry allowed Sirius and Remus to kill him that night. No, instead that boy and his dammed morals had kept him alive! Now he was dead by nightfall! There was no way that he would be able to find either Potter or that bitch Bellatrix by nightfall!

He was a disgrace to wizardry, he would die without fulfilling that damned life-debt that Potter had placed on him! Hauling himself up from the floor, he very cautiously tested out his legs. He was able to walk.

As he was walking out of the chamber, a thought came to him. He would still be able to fulfill his life debt! It didn't matter if he did what he had in mind, he was dead either way.

But he wasn't going to go down as a disgrace.

-

"When I was young, I was quite foolish, and I made so many mistakes," Bellatrix stated, "I couldn't even begin to tell you the first one, or how many."

As she was talking, she was raking her right hand through Harry's hair, and loath as he was to admit it, it had a soothing effect on him, and he quite liked it. Plus it was seemingly helping him to regain his senses.

"One of the many mistakes that I made was joining with Voldemort," she held up a hand to stop Harry's protests, "At the time I thought it was a good decision, looking back? It was a horrible one. I will freely admit that I committed numerous crimes, and ruined the lives of a great number of people. It also was ruining my life, as I was becoming more and more trapped in darkness, and I hated it. I wanted out, but I couldn't get out, so my vicious cycle of depression only continued to thrive. One day, however, all that changed for me."

She took a deep breath and Harry could see the pain etch itself on Bellatrix's face.

"The year was 1979," Bellatrix said, staring at the opposite wall of the room, "I don't think you know this, but I was quite adept at potions, and was greatly trusted for my skill in them, even after Snape joined the ranks. It was because of this skill I knew that I made a potion that didn't lie."

Harry could have sworn he saw the witch bite back a sob before continuing on.

"I was pregnant it turned out," Bellatrix went on, her hand still stroking Harry's head, "It wasn't my husband's either, because he had been out of the country, and my life, for many months. I was frightened at what would happen to the child, but I knew one thing: I would not let it become a tool of Voldemort's. It was on that day that I determined that I needed to set out to right the wrongs that I had committed, if not for my sake, but for my child's. I was currently living a place you're familiar with, Grimmauld Place, and as such I escaped and decided to go to the one person who I knew that would hear me out, and also where no one would look for me."

Harry saw her take a breath, before she uttered a single word, "Sirius."

Harry immediately tensed up, but before he could say anything, Bellatrix was already continuing her story, "I went to my dear cousin, and I am sure I gave him quite a surprise when he came home that night to find me on his front porch. He was immediately suspicious, but after hearing me out, he decided to offer me shelter."

Bellatrix closed her eyes again, pausing, before opening them and looking Harry straight in the eye, "For the rest of those long months I was hidden under a form of the Fidelius Charm in an expanded closet in Sirius' house. The one thing that kept me going was the thought of my child, and the light he would bring back to my life. I was starting to become happy for the first time in years."

Bellatrix paused again, as the pain that was on Bellatrix's face seemed to evaporate for a quick second, "The happiest day of my life was on July 29, 1980, for my son was born on that day. I named him Circinus. He was the most beautiful baby."

The joy which had been on Bellatrix's face quickly reverted back to pain, "However my time with my son was short. For two days later, on the thirty-first, Voldemort discovered where I was. Because of the Dark Lord's spells, I was unable to escape, however, because he didn't know about my son, I was able to use a port key that took him directly to Sirius. Immediately after that, I was captured, and Voldemort, not wanting to lose one of his most useful Death Eaters, put me through a massive brain washing, making me into his most faithful servant."

The pain in Bellatrix's voice was palpable. She sounded like she was about to break down as she went on, "I never knew what happened to my son until a few days ago, when something extraordinary happened, and my mind was cleared of Voldemort's brainwashing. I had learned again why I didn't want to be under the Dark Lord's thumb anymore, why I had to fight back against him, and why I had to help you Harry."

Harry looked at her, and asked the one question that every single fiber in his brain was yelling at him _not _to ask, "Why?"

"Because I had found my Circinus," Bellatrix responded, looking down, the joy evident in her voice. She looked back up at Harry, directly into his eyes, as she spoke the words that would change Harry's life, "You, Harry. You're my son."

Harry's world came crashing down.

- End Chapter -

A/n:

**Timeliness of this chapter:** After being so tardy with the last one, I wanted to get this one out quickly, so to reestablish a pattern with this story, and get you, the readers, to see I'm not going to seemingly abandon it again.

**Harry's pain:** To be explained more in the next chapter.

Told you that you would hate me. Thank you to everyone that REVIEWED! Please REVIEW this chapter and tell me what you think!


	6. Chapter 6

- Chapter Six -

**Present Day**

Ronald Weasley was not having the greatest summer that he could possibly imagine. After the fiasco in the Department of Mysteries he was starting to reconsider his total willingness to always be Harry's 'right hand man' so to speak. Yes, he loved the attention that he got by proxy from being Harry's best friend (and thus privy to many of Harry's adventures), but after this experience…he was thinking that maybe it was time to take a more 'background' roll in Harry's adventures.

Yes, he would still help him out, but he didn't think he would be able to be the person on the 'front lines.' As much as he complained against being held back by the Order of the Phoenix, he now saw why. It was a dangerous world, and he hadn't gone in prepared.

The incident with the brains had shaken Ron to the core. While he would never tell anyone this, the doctors thought for a minute that Ron would be totally brain damaged. He was lucky that he only got out with the scars on his arms. He thought it was funny that he always wished he had Harry's life, and now that he had his own scars, he couldn't help but want to strangle himself for ever thinking that Harry had an 'easy' life.

He knew that these brains were just the tip of the iceberg of what Harry's life was like. He had tasted the life that Harry led, and he now knew for a fact that he didn't want it. However, he wouldn't allow himself to become a disgrace to his family name like his brother, Percy, had. No, he wouldn't abandon his best friend when the going got rough, for now was the time that Harry needed him, more than ever.

One thing that Ron prided himself on was that he could think things through quite a large deal, contrary to popular belief. In chess he could think as many as twenty moves ahead. He still prided himself on defeating McGonagall's chess set in his _first_ year at Hogwarts. He knew he as good at strategy, he just had the problem of not being able to think along these lines in the most highest of high stress situations, or, as his sister liked to say, on a day to day basis.

Okay, so he was great at thinking up strategy, but he didn't have a lick of common sense. That's why he knew he was useless on a battlefield, where one had to think strategy with there life on the line - for it could end at and instant. No, he couldn't do that. He could, however, stay behind the lines and help his best friend with the directions that were needed in order to win on the battlefield.

He had no doubt that his best friend was indeed going to be the be all, end all for this war. There was just _something_ about Harry, something peculiar about him. You knew, that for however he looked on the outside, there was just something lurking underneath his skin that was dying to get out. Ron had seen it, or at least had been close to seeing it. First year? Second year? Third year? Fourth? The last? All of those times, something had been thrown in Harry's way, and he had barreled right into it, and come out on top. A champion of the light.

Now, however, Harry would need direction. He couldn't go charging off headlong into battle anymore, the Department of Mysteries proved that. Harry needed his support section. Ron knew he could provide that.

Rising from his secluded spot in his backyard, Ron started to walk back towards his home, The Burrow. Almost immediately as he approached he could just about _see_ the chaos that was going on inside his home. This had never proven to be something that Ron would describe as "happy" or "pleasant."

When he entered the kitchen, he saw the reason why things were hectic: the family was packing everything that they owned as fast as they could.

"What's going on?" Ron asked, as his father came into the room. Arthur Weasley was a man that normally did not wear his emotions on his sleeve. In fact, most of the time he displayed an outward appearance oh at least content ness. So it was to Ron's shock that his father looked very grim.

"Sit down son," Arthur said to his son. Ron sat down at the scrubbed kitchen table, trying to use his brain (he could just imagine Hermione saying, "For once.") to figure out what was going on.

"What's going on Dad?" Ron asked once again.

"We're going to _someplace else_ until further notice," Arthur responded, calculating his thoughts, "There was an attack on a house that was previously thought impenetrable by the Dark Lord and his followers. The house was completely leveled with little warning, and all but one of the occupants were killed. Dumbledore felt it was best that we get out of here as quickly as we possibly can."

Ron didn't have to ask whose house it was, only one house would cause this sort of a panic among the Order.

"Does the Order have Harry?" Ron asked, surprising his father with his insight.

"No one knows where Harry is," Arthur responded to his son, before standing up to finish packing. Ron stayed seated for a second in shock. He hoped that wherever Harry was, he wasn't in danger.

-

Peter Pettigrew looked down at the parchments that contained his absolution. It didn't purge him from all of his sins, but at least now he wouldn't die a disgrace or a coward. Handing the note to the owl, he took a deep breath before sealing his fate.

"Take these to Harry Potter, and Bellatrix," Pettigrew whispered, before setting the owl free, "Wherever they are."

Squaring his shoulders, he looked out at the horizon. It was still a good four hours until dusk. His dusk. He supposed that he could run away once more, but for once in his life he wanted to face his punishment like a man, not a rat.

Walking back to his room with a new spring in his step, he decided to finish off the last of the fire whiskey that he had been holding onto for when Potter died. He would toast his miserable life in silence, all alone in his room. He supposed it was fitting for the life that he led.

-

Albus Dumbledore sighed as he walked back into his office. He had been on a whirlwind travel the past few hours. First he had the damage control at the Ministry, and then he had to inform the Order. He really didn't want to abandon Grimmauld Place, but if Privet Drive could be broken into, then it left little choice to abandon the old Black Family Home.

The new headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix was still having ward work being done to it, but as he was the only person on the face of the planet that knew where the location was, it would serve it's purpose of hiding the Order until heads could be made from tails.

Dumbledore looked at his instruments that he had that told him about Harry. These were the most confusing of all. They all showed that Harry was _safe_. This, hopefully, meant that Harry wasn't in Voldemort's clutches. He could only hope.

The other confusing part was the fact that none of the instruments showed where Harry was. Usually they told him _exactly_ where Harry's location was, but now they were just blank. Not only did this confuse Albus, but it also scared him. It meant that Harry was being hid by extremely powerful magic, and he only knew of a few places, and people, on Earth that could offer Harry that level of protection, and unfortunately most were Dark wizards.

He hoped that Harry hadn't done anything rash, but it did say that he was safe. Dumbledore could only hope that this also meant from darkness.

-

Harry looked at Bellatrix in complete shock. Although there was joy in Bellatrix's voice, her face showed nothing but apprehension. Harry's mind knew nothing but disbelief…underlined by a nagging voice that told him that the witch in front of him _was_ telling him the truth.

The words that left his mouth, however, came forward purely by instinct.

"No."

"I swear to you, I am telling you the truth," Bellatrix said with a pleading voice, her hand reaching for Harry's. Harry, however, reacted as if he had been burned by her touch, yanking his hand back. His senses were completely back now.

"I don't believe you!" Harry shouted, leaping out of the bed, placing it between himself and Bellatrix, "I _refuse_ to believe you!"

Bellatrix looked at Harry like she was in pain.

"I swear to you my son, I tell you the truth," Bellatrix said with pleading voice, staying still, not wanting Harry to run out of the room.

"Prove it," Harry said, rage evident in his voice. He refused to believe that this…this murderer was his mother!

"Look in the mirror my son," Bellatrix said, motioning to a mirror that was across the room. Harry took a look at Bellatrix, cocked his head, and slowly walked over to the mirror, not looking at it until he was right in front of it.

When he did he got the shock of a lifetime.

"What the hell is going on?" Harry yelled, whipping around to look at Bellatrix, who was watching Harry in extreme apprehension. When Harry had looked in the mirror, he wasn't quite prepared for what he saw. Instead of the normal reflection he got, it was slightly skewed. Instead of his usual green eyes, they were now violet. His face reminded him more of Sirius now than James Potter. Oh he could still see his old self in his features, but it was _barely_ there.

"I told you," Bellatrix said in a slow voice, "That you had a powerful glamour spell on you. When you came into the house, the Black Magic reversed all the magic that had been done to your body, reverting you back to your true form."

Harry whipped around to look at the mirror again. He studied himself more intensely. Yes, he was still there in this foreign face, that was for sure. Hell he still had his scar.

"The scar stayed," Harry said, causing Bellatrix to take on a tight grin that Harry didn't notice. After studying his face for a few more moments, he noticed something else, "I don't need my glasses."

"I can only guess that was part of the glamour," Bellatrix responded as she watched Harry turn back around. Harry walked slowly up to her, as if apprehensive. She noticed that is rage seemed to have slightly been abated, but she didn't want to take any chances. She stood up as he drew near, but it wouldn't have mattered. He stood a good five inches taller than her now, and she wasn't exactly short to begin with.

"You said that only those of the Black family can come into this house," Harry said, more in a statement, than in a question.

"Yes," Bellatrix answered, looking into her son's eyes, that mirrored her own. They were _her_ eyes.

"You were telling me the truth, you aren't having me on," Harry stopped, looking down for a second, then looking back up, "You aren't trying to mess with my head, _and make me go totally insane?_"

Bellatrix grabbed her son's hands in her own, and placed them over her heart.

"I swear to you upon my life, my magic, and my love," Bellatrix said, looking deep into her son's eyes, seeing the fear within them, "That I, Bellatrix Black, am being honest to you Harry James Potter, born Circinus Black…my son."

Harry looked into Bellatrix's eyes and saw nothing but love in them. They were the eyes of truth.

"Did you know that I always wished for my mother to be alive?" Harry said to his mother, "During the darkest days with the muggles, I always wished for my mother to be there to give some comfort to me, to give me some gesture of love, a hug even!"

"Oh, my son," Bellatrix exclaimed, tears of joy already running down her face as she released Harry's hands and wrapped her arm's around her son, who fell down to his knees and broke down crying against his mother.

"Why did we have to be separated?" Harry asked, crying against his mother's stomach. Bellatrix looked down at her son and stroked his hair and his back, crying as well.

"I don't know baby," Bellatrix whispered, holding her son possessively against herself, "But mummy is never going to leave you again."

- End Chapter -

A/n:

**Manatheron:** You're going to have to wait and see exactly WHY the Potter magic didn't reject him. That's going to be coming up.

**Harry and Bellatrix's eyes:** I could have sworn I read somewhere that Bellatrix had violet eyes. If not, it's fanfiction!

Yeah, I'm pumping these chapters out for a few reason: 1) I have the time and the energy actually, and 2) I need to make up for that year long absence of any chapters whatsoever.

Thank you to everyone that REVIEWED, I really appreciate it!


	7. Chapter 7

- Chapter Seven -

**Present Day**

Bellatrix looked down at her sleeping son. It had been a really tiring day for him. After her revelation, she had decided that the two needed something to eat, as it had been quite a while since either of them had. In fact, she knew that her son had ate nothing since being captured by Voldemort, and she wasn't much better.

"Are you hungry Harry?" Bellatrix asked her son, who was still hugging her.

"I am," Harry responded with a slight laugh, tears still evident in his voice.

"Come, follow me," Bellatrix said, lifting her son off of his knees, "There aren't any house elves here anymore, but I'm sure I'll be able to magic up something."

Twenty minutes later, Bellatrix had indeed been able to "magic something up" as she had said, and the two were enjoying a simple meal that they had found in the house's pantry under always fresh spells.

"Blacks have always had a reputation of being paranoid," Bellatrix said as a means of explanation, "Always wanting to be prepared for anything."

While the two were eating, Bellatrix looked at her son, thoughts swirling through her head.

"Harry," Bellatrix said, with a slight amount of trepidation in her voice, "What did you mean by, "The darkest days at the muggles?" Surely they must have treated you well? Albus Dumbledore himself entrusted you into their care."

Bellatrix caught the haunted look that filtered across her son's face.

"Albus Dumbledore didn't realize to the fullest extent what he was doing," Harry said darkly, "He knew that he was putting me into a situation where I would grow up with hardship, but he didn't realize just how much hardship."

Bellatrix didn't say anything, choosing to let her son continue, which he did, "Right up until I got my letter to Hogwarts they made me live in a cupboard! A cupboard not bigger than your usual broom closets! My first Hogwarts letter was even addressed to, 'The Cupboard Under the Stairs!'"

Bellatrix was seething inside, how DARE those muggles do that to her baby! And Dumbledore! Something Harry said, though, caught her slightly off guard, "Harry, what do you mean, your 'first' letter?"

Harry snorted, "My Aunt - excuse me, the Dursleys didn't want me going to Hogwarts. Apparently the reason that they had kept me locked away in the cupboard for so many years was just one of their many attempts to 'squash the magic out of me.' Really, you would think with all the magical situations that happened to me even with their constant scorn of me, with treating me like trash, starving me, and all that lot that they would have realized that my magic wasn't going away!"

Bellatrix was seething inside even more. If those muggles already weren't dead, she knew that she would be killing them herself _now_. However, she noticed that her son still hadn't answered her question, "Harry, you still didn't answer my question, what did you mean by your _first_ letter?"

"Oh, like I said, they didn't want me to go," Harry said, looking at his mother, hitches starting to develop in his voice, "So they kept burning all the letters that came. Eventually so many started to come that they decided to try to hide from them by running cross country. Eventually, Dumbledore had to send Hagrid to retrieve me!"

Bellatrix was _livid_.

"Harry, you're telling me, your mother, that after all this, Dumbledore didn't think something was _wrong_?" Bellatrix asked with slightly clenched teeth.

"Yes, he had a 'plan' you see," Harry said with a mirthless laugh, barely keeping emotion suppressed under the surface, "He wanted to 'prepare me for the trials of the future' by making me realize that nothing would get handed to me! To teach me a hard work ethic!"

Bellatrix noticed the slight tear coming out of her son's eye, breaking her heart, as he went on, "Mum, why did he have to do that to me? I wanted nothing more than a normal childhood! Why did I have to be the special one?"

"I'm so sorry baby," Bellatrix said, walking over and hugging her son from behind, "If I could have done _anything_ then you can be assured that I would."

Bellatrix just held onto her son as he continued to cry. He obviously was badly damaged by his childhood, and why wouldn't he be? He grew up without any love whatsoever!

Bellatrix looked down at her sleeping son. It had been a really tiring day for him. He had agonizingly gone over every detail of his life, how he had been treated by everyone around him. It really irritated Bellatrix that Dumbledore looked at her son as the ultimate savior, and even knew that he _had_ to be, yet still allowed Harry to be in an environment that was not conducive to this!

Bellatrix sat down in the chair that was next to her son's bed. She really hadn't put much thought into what she should do now. It was only a matter of time before Voldemort tracked them down, and even then only another matter of time before he broke through the wards. As much as she didn't want to do it, she knew that she really only had one option left.

She knew that she had to contact Albus Dumbledore.

-

**Present Day, the night before**

Peter Pettigrew kneeled before his master, for the first time in many years not afraid.

"Wormtail, tell me," Voldemort began, not even looking at Pettigrew, instead looking out at his assembled Death Eaters, "Did you succeed?"

"No," Pettigrew responded, looking up at his master, "In fact, _master_, I didn't even try."

"_CRUCIO!_" Voldemort raged instantly. He took in Pettigrew's tortured screams, but noticed that even through the screams, Pettigrew wasn't even trying to resist this punishment. This was not acceptable.

"Tell me Wormtail," Voldemort said, lifting the spell, "Why did you feel that you could so flagrantly disobey me?"

"Because, _master_," Pettigrew said with a slight sneer, rising to one of his knees even though his body was wracked with pain, "I am no longer your servant."

With that, Pettigrew took his mask off, tossing it at Voldemort's feet. The Dark Lord and the Death Eaters were to stunned too even respond as Pettigrew rose to his feet.

"The biggest mistake I ever made was serving you," Pettigrew stated, "But I must pay for my mistakes, which I did while you thought I was still being your loyal rat. Bellatrix and Potter now know that you are looking for them."

Pettigrew withdrew his wand from his pocket, before tossing it on the ground. With a defiant look at the Dark Lord, Pettigrew stepped on his wand, snapping it in half.

"I can never go and serve the light," Pettigrew said, "Not after everything I've done. But I will no longer serve _you_."

With a mighty snarl, Voldemort leveled another Cruciatus Curse on Pettigrew, who accepted his fate with open arms. It didn't stop there though, as when the Dark Lord lifted the curse, he let the other Death Eaters have their way with the traitorous rat.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity to Pettigrew, Voldemort felt his body being lifted up by two Death Eaters, till he was looking straight in the face of the most powerful Dark Lord of the Century.

"You disappointed me Pettigrew," Voldemort said with a soft whisper to the defiant man, "I always thought you could have been slightly more than a rat, but a rat you stayed until your dieing day."

Pettigrew did nothing more than spit in the Dark Lord's face. Pettigrew didn't even have enough time for a final thought before he was dead, laying upon the floor before the feet of the Dark Lord.

"Leave me," Voldemort commanded to his Death Eater, who all bowed before leaving the room as quickly as possible. One Death Eater, however, left faster than the others.

Severus Snape for the first time in many years was running. He needed to get back to Dumbledore as fast as possible, to tell him not just about what happened with Pettigrew, but about the Potter boy.

Maybe the Light wasn't as doomed as he had feared.

-

"That is good news to hear, indeed," Dumbledore said to Snape, who was sitting in front of his desk, "Puzzling about Mister Pettigrew though."

"I don't know what brought his defiance on Albus," Snape said, still in his Death Eater regalia, "It did seem to be rather sudden. Pettigrew had become almost an informant on those that even looked slightly disloyal to the Dark Lord."

"Most puzzling indeed," Dumbledore responded, staring at a his phoenix, Fawkes, instead of at his Potions Master. Dumbledore slowly turned his gaze upon Snape, "You can leave Severus. I doubt you could offer anymore insight into what is going on. Thank you."

"As always, Headmaster," Snape responded, standing up, and then leaving with a slight bow of his head.

Dumbledore sighed as he now thought about the ever changing situation regarding Harry Potter and the fight against Voldemort. This situation was spinning further and further out of Dumbledore's control. At least it was now confirmed that Harry wasn't in Voldemort's clutches, but the fact that Bellatrix LeStrange was missing as well concerned him.

What if Bellatrix had taken Harry herself? This was just as bad as being in the clutches of Voldemort to Dumbledore. Bellatrix was an insane witch that had never once showed any remorse for _any_ of the evil that she had ever produced, or committed.

Dumbledore looked on his desk, and saw that Harry Potter still indeed was safe.

Dumbledore couldn't begin to fathom what indeed had caused Pettigrew to turn as he did. The man was a coward, one of the worst that Dumbledore could ever think of. He wanted to assume that this was Pettigrew's way of repaying Harry for the life-debt that he owed him, but he didn't think that this was the cause, as Pettigrew was to much of a disgrace to even honor that.

Dumbledore once again looked at his desk, and once again saw that Harry Potter was safe. This was his only comforting thought as he walked to him room in order to catch a scant few hours of sleep. Maybe in the morning, after some rest, things would look different. Maybe he would see something that he hadn't seen before.

He hoped, because as he saw it, the glimmers of hope were starting to dim.

-

**Present Day, currently**

Harry woke up wondering where he was for a few minutes, the surroundings were really unfamiliar. Almost instantly the past few days crashed back into his head. Looking around he barely noticed that he didn't need his glasses anymore. He noticed that he was in the room alone.

Standing up, he grabbed some clothes that laid in the chair next to the bed, and put them on, hoping that he wasn't in the middle of the most realistic nightmare he had ever had. Walking out of the room, he was confused on where to go, but then he heard the pacing of feet coming from a room down the hallway. Walking through the half open door he saw his mother pacing back and forth while dictating a letter to a quill that was writing on a piece of parchment on a desk. He also noticed that she was holding a piece of parchment in her hand as well.

Harry just studied his mother for a minute, not alerting her to his presence. It was still a strange thought, knowing that he did indeed have family alive, and that his mother was Bellatrix LeStrange of all people. Well, not LeStrange, as she said that she would never use that name again. She had told him she was Bellatrix _Black_, and by rights he was a Black as well.

He noticed that his mother had also started to lose some of the hallmarks of a prolonged stay in Azkaban. Her hair was once again becoming fuller, and the natural beauty of all the Blacks was starting to creep back into her features. She also didn't look as crazed as she once did, although he speculated that this had something to do with her having her _true_ mind back now.

Harry watched as she ended her letter, and was about to seal it when he spoke up.

"Who are you writing to mum?" Harry asked, causing her to whip around.

"Oh, you scared me baby," Bellatrix said, taking a deep breath, before picking the letter up off of the desk, "I'll tell you in a minute, but do you want some breakfast?"

"Sure," Harry responded, having Bellatrix lead him towards the kitchen.

"I was thinking, mum," Harry said, as he was eating, "What did you say you named me when I was born?"

"Circinus Black," Bellatrix responded with a certain air, "My guide out of the darkness."

"Would you like to call me that instead of, 'Harry?'" Harry asked his mother. He had wondered why Bellatrix hadn't been calling him by this name.

"I would love to my child," Bellatrix said with happiness, "I had only called you 'Harry' because that was the name that you were used to, and I didn't know if you wanted to use the name you were born with because you'd been using your other for years."

"Well, I'm not very much Harry Potter now am I?" Harry responded, with a laugh, "Look at me! I'm very definitely Circinus Black!"

"That you are Circi," Bellatrix responded with laugh of her own, calling her son a name she hadn't in over fifteen years.

A short while later Bellatrix was sitting in a sitting room with a book in her hands. She still hadn't sent the letter she had written that morning, wanting to inform her son of the contents of it before she sent it off. Speaking of her son, he had just walked into the room.

"Enjoy your shower Circi?" Bellatrix asked, setting her book down.

"Of course," Harry responded, sitting down in a chair across from his mother.

"Now, you wanted to know what was in this letter?" Bellatrix asked, picking it up.

"Yes, please," Harry responded.

"Last night, after you had fallen asleep I received a letter from Peter Pettigrew," Bellatrix stated, watching her son's eye blaze over, "It was a warning, telling me, and you, that Voldemort knew that we were missing. Apparently, he had tasked Pettigrew with finding us. He informed us that due to a life debt that you had over him, he was not going to do this, and instead take the consequences from Voldemort."

Harry was stunned. He could not believe that Pettigrew would do such a thing.

"How can we trust him," Harry asked in a dark voice.

"We can't," Bellatrix responded, "So hence this letter. It is a request to Dumbledore for asylum."

- End Chapter -

A/n:

**Ron:** I hate the fics where Ron is nothing but a sidekick that blindly follows Harry into battle when it's so obvious that he is a great at strategy. I also hate that JK Rowling ignored this as well. I wanted to do something different with the boy.

**Peter Pettigrew:** I think I made his use obvious in this one.

My yahoo!account isn't working for some reason, so it might take a little longer for me to respond to reviews for a little bit. Thanks again for all the REVIEWS! I love them! Keep REVIEWING and thanks for reading!


End file.
